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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792412">Angel's Tears</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZScalantian/pseuds/ZScalantian'>ZScalantian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Final Fantasy X Series, Final Fantasy XIII Series</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Asexual Relationship, F/F, Screen Reader Compatible, Screw Destiny, Terminal Illness, Witchcraft</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 14:46:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>10,964</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27792412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZScalantian/pseuds/ZScalantian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Witches and their familiars offend the gods - or so says superstition.  Lightning thinks that's a load of bull.  What good is magic if you can't use it to save your loved ones?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lightning (Final Fantasy XIII)/Yuna (Final Fantasy X &amp; X-2)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Heart Attack Exchange 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Angel's Tears</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/VampirePaladin/gifts">VampirePaladin</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><br/><br/>The train swayed gently as it rattled down the tracks.  The sky through the long windows was lit up gold, with scattered clouds over the ocean in what promised to be a spectacular subtropical sunset.  </p><p>Lightning was trying to enjoy the view, but it was hard.  She’d got off work earlier than usual - it had been a slow day; the only call she’d been out on was to deal with a micro-ochu stuck in an elderly couple’s flower pots.  Her supervisor, Amodar, had let her go early, telling her to enjoy her birthday.  This meant the train car was more crowded than her usual after-rush-hour commute, and she felt their staring eyes on her.  Or, more likely, on Odin, fluffed up and resting on her shoulder.  His golden horse-like eyes were closed, and he looked just like a big white raven.  </p><p>Quiet enough that no one else could hear, he muttered, “You’d think none of them had ever seen a Witch’s familiar before.”</p><p>Lightning rolled her eyes as she continued looking out the window.  Couple of centuries ago, their unease might have been a problem.  They drowned suspected Witches back then.  Even when she was a kid, ‘Witch’ was still getting tossed around as a cruel playground insult, though her mom would’ve washed her mouth out with soap if she’d ever heard Light using the word to make fun of someone.  </p><p>But now, Witches were the favorites in tv dramas and young adult novels.  They were so prevalent in pop media that there was a major activist push to hire Witch actors to fill Witch roles, for diversity and authenticity.</p><p>Light had been approached by casting agents herself.  There were these two scouts for a Witch-centric modeling agency who were particularly persistent.  She always turned them down, of course.  She -</p><p>Her phone rang.  She looked at the caller’s photo on screen and smiled, tapping to answer.</p><p>“Hey.”</p><p>“Hi,” said a sweet, gentle voice.  Light could picture its owner, Yuna, her girlfriend, in some cramped dressing room somewhere, her face half made-up and her phone on speaker so her stylist could get the other half.  “Happy birthday!”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>“Are you headed home?”</p><p>“Yeah.  Serah’s cooked a fancy dinner.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry I have to miss it.  I’ll be home tomorrow.  Can I see you then?”</p><p>Light’s smile grew.  Yuna knew Lightning was a busy person and she was always mindful of her boundaries.  Light found it sweet that she always double-checked.  “I’d love that.”</p><p>◊</p><p>Lightning’s fingers drummed on the table.  Odin perched on the chair back above her, his bristling hostility a match for hers.  She couldn’t believe Serah had brought her no-account boyfriend to her <em> birthday dinner. </em>  She knew Lightning didn’t like him - how could she have thought this was a good idea?</p><p>It wasn’t, and Serah clearly realized that now.  She’d hardly eaten any of the amazing food she’d spent days finding recipes for and hours cooking.  She looked like a little bird, huddled in on herself.  Even her cat, Mog, twining around her feet under the table, couldn’t get a smile out of her.  Guilt pinched Lightning, looking at her, so she didn’t actually say anything, but she knew her bad mood still showed.</p><p>Snow realized, too, but instead of doing the decent thing and <em> un-inviting </em> himself, he just screeched his chair closer to Serah’s and looked sideways at Lightning with little flickering glances.</p><p>She probably frightened him.  An angry Witch had that effect on people, and Lightning had honed her intimidation skills on overly-bureaucratic officials, homeowners brandishing guns, and a world-class menagerie of stressed, panicky, and aggressive beasts.  Mostly there was no point in getting mad at the animals, who hadn’t meant to get themselves into whatever mess they were in, but a glare that could make an alpha behemoth back down and back off was an asset in her line of work, and she wasn’t making a huge effort to keep her expression neutral.</p><p>After about twenty minutes, it was clear that nobody was going to be eating tonight.  Lightning had nibbled a little at first, game to at least show Serah that she appreciated the effort that had gone into the dinner, but despite the beautiful presentation and wonderful flavors, her heart wasn’t in it.  She stood, gathering her plates.  “Thanks for the food, Serah, but I think I’m going to turn in.”</p><p>Serah seemed to collapse in on herself a little more, and Snow set a big hand on her shoulder.  Lightning had a brief and bloody urge to get a kitchen knife and cut the offending limb off.  She was <em> not </em> overprotective, she insisted, but everything about Snow rubbed her the wrong way.  He was sloppy, and too casual, and didn’t have a real job.  He drove a custom motorcycle, and the night-shattering roar of it in their quiet neighborhood sent Lightning up a wall.  </p><p>Serah, who thought the best of everyone, couldn’t see how shallow and surface-level he was, so the touch seemed to give her strength.  She took a deep breath and stood, facing Lightning.  She drew a rectangular box from her pocket, wrapped in glinting silver and quartz-pink foil, and held it toward Lightning.  The movement was odd and stiff - Serah had mentioned her left shoulder hurting the other day, said she’d slept on  it wrong.  A square adhesive bandage on her upper arm caught Light’s eye, and she frowned with concern.</p><p>“Is your shoulder still hurting?”</p><p>“I’ll tell you in a minute.  Open your gift first, okay?”  Serah’s chin firmed up stubbornly, and Light knew there wasn’t a lot of point arguing.  Her baby sister was amenable about 87% of the time, but when she had her mind made up about something…</p><p>Inside the box was a little silver folding knife, gleaming in the kitchen light.  The blade was engraved with the words, <em> Invoke my name, I am Spark </em>.  It was perfect - beautiful, and useful.  She could use it at work and in casting.</p><p>Odin landed on Light’s shoulder and leaned down admiringly.  “Very nice,” he commented, his deep and rumbling voice incongruous coming from the raven’s beak.</p><p>“I’m glad you like it,” she said to him.  “Thanks, Serah.  I’ll cherish it.”</p><p>Serah smiled at that, but it was tremulous and quickly gone.  Lightning’s chest tightened.  Something was wrong, way more wrong than a tense dinner or a stiff shoulder could explain.  </p><p>“Good,” Serah said.  “I hoped so.  I -”  She broke off and held her right hand out behind her.  Snow stood and took it, squeezing it like he was offering moral support.  He towered over Serah.  Light felt her worry and bewilderment turning back into anger, but she tamped it down, letting Serah take her time to say whatever she was trying to say.</p><p>“I got my blood test results this morning.  It’s not good - oh, Light, it’s so bad.”  Her small face wrinkled up as if she was going to cry; she pulled the bandage off in one sharp motion.</p><p>Lightning felt slow and stunned.  <em> Blood test? </em>  What was Serah talking about?  She stared at the glimmery patch of skin revealed under the bandage, like Serah had grown freckles of blue sequins and glitter.</p><p>“Angel's Tears, Dr. Minwu said.”  </p><p>It was like Lightning was underwater.  She could hear what Serah was saying, but it was muffled and distorted.  Angels Tears…  that couldn’t be true.  Maybe ten people a year came down with the disease, worldwide.  It was always fatal - maybe it would take five years for the crystals to eat up their body, maybe it would only take six months, but there was no cure.  Not even magic could help.</p><p>She knew Witches were more likely to get it than the general populace.  That was how it got its common name, from an old superstition that it was the gods crying over Witches’ demon-corrupted souls, that the disease ‘purified’ them.  But Serah wasn’t a Witch.  She had no magic, no familiar.  Lightning had her suspicions about Mog, with the batwing patterns on his shoulder fur, though he’d never shown more than normal cat intelligence, but Serah <em> wasn’t </em> a Witch.</p><p>She was still talking.  Something about Snow, and a sharp jab of irritation gave Lightning the focus to break out of her shock, like surfacing from the water again.  “What?”  Her voice came out sharper than she intended.</p><p>“I swear I’ll look after her,” Snow said, stepping up beside Serah.  He raised one hand and clenched it dramatically, like some tv hero striking a pose.  “I won’t let her fight it alone.”</p><p>Tears shone in Serah’s blue eyes, but she smiled at him, then looked back at Light.  “So… we were hoping for your blessing?” </p><p>In her head, Light replayed the minute of Serah’s speech she’d been distracted during.  The las thing she'd said was, ‘<em> Snow asked me to marry him anyway.’ </em></p><p>“What?” she asked again, flat this time with disbelief.  “No.  You’ve got to be kidding me.”  She reached out, grabbed Serah’s arm.  Ran her fingers over the glimmering blue flecks.  The skin was sticky from the bandage - or just sticky with glue?</p><p>Serah’s graduation party, two months ago.  She’d sent Lightning photos from it, the kids fashionable with beaded jewelry, feathers and chains braided into their hair…  spray glitter sticking to their faces and hands.</p><p>She let loose like she’d been burnt.  Fury clogged her throat, and she spoke through it, her pulse in her ears like a drum.  “You thought I’d fall for this?”  She felt colder suddenly as Odin left her shoulder.  She tried to direct the words at Snow, this deception had his shiftless finger marks all over it, but her eyes seemed locked on Serah’s face.  She couldn’t drag them away.  “You knew I’d be opposed, but you thought I’d <em> soften </em> if I thought she was <em> dying </em> ?  My little <em> sister? </em>”</p><p>“Light, we’re not lying!” Serah cried.</p><p>“I can’t believe you would do -”  Her veins felt filled with ice water, a remote and icy calm settled on her.  “How many other times have you lied to me to get your way?”</p><p>“Never! I -”  Serah’s mouth fell open, trembling.  She heaved a sobbing breath and ran out of the room.  Her footsteps, light even now, ran to the doorway, stopped for her shoes, then the door opened and shut.</p><p>Snow swung around on Lightning.  She met the fury in his eyes with her own.  He was upset his ploy had failed, huh?</p><p>“How can you talk like that to her?!  This’s been the worst day of her life, and you -”</p><p>“Shut up!  Get out of my house.”</p><p>He leaned toward her, his big hands making fists and his mouth snarling.  “Don’t shut her out!  She needs you!”</p><p>Light began to snap back, then clicked her jaw closed and turned away from him, folding her arms.  He didn’t deserve any more of her attention.</p><p>Snow waited a moment more for her to say something, then smacked one hand against the table, making the silverware jump, and stormed away.</p><p>She heard the door slam behind him.  Good riddance.  Who the hell slammed doors in other people’s houses?  Hotheads with no manners, that’s who.  How could Serah be attracted to that guy?  She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of her sister <em>marrying</em> him.</p><p>Angel's Tears.  What stupid… what sort of… just….  </p><p>Her hands, locked around her arms, were shaking.  Light released them.  Her nails had left eight white crescent moons in the skin, and they turned an unpleasant pinky-purple as the blood rushed back into them.  She took a steadying breath.  Deep in, hold, slow out.  </p><p>She set the dishes into the sink, letting warm water run over her hands as the basin filled.  She didn't think, just let the mindless activity of chores settle her.  She could hear Odin’s talons clicking against the table as he walked around, but he didn’t say anything.  </p><p>Her calm didn't last.   Her uneaten birthday cake was still sitting on the counter.  Serah had bought it from a bakery in town, and it was shaped and iced like a white raven’s head.  She glared at it as she smacked a cover over it.  Today was her twenty-first birthday, and it had been a wreck.  The worst of her life.</p><p>Anger fizzed behind her eyes, beat in her wrists.  It hissed out between her clenched teeth.  She stomped into the entry, throwing her boots to the side and stomping her feet into her laid-out sneakers.  She locked the house behind her before running down the quiet street, past low white stucco houses set behind banks of palms and birds-of-paradise.  She went at a steady, even pace, something she could sustain for miles.  </p><p>Odin hung back.  He normally flew ahead of her on runs, guiding, but tonight she only knew he was there because of the heavy sound of his wingbeats.  If he was going to be mad at her, that was fine.  She was three for three on that count.</p><p>She turned out of their neighborhood onto a busier road leading to the beach.  The sidewalk was littered with grape-sized yellow soapberries, fallen early from the bordering trees after last week’s gusting winds.  Most of them had been smashed flat already, and Light deliberately squished a few more.</p><p>She ran down through the edge of town.  The shops closest to the jungle, farthest from the shoreline, catered mostly to locals and only the convenience and grocery stores were still open.  A little farther in, shop and restaurant windows displaying clothes or jewelry or blitzballs or plastic food were still lit up.  The white-noise hum of insects was drowned under the talk and laughter of tourists sitting at outside tables.  </p><p>Near the beach, hotels and condos towered up, tier after tier of rising lights, and the golden, almost-full moon vanished and reappeared between them as she ran, higher and smaller in the sky each time it came back into view.</p><p>The beach itself, a broad strip of pale sand, with the waves breaking on it almost luminescent in the moonlight.  Beyond, the great dark expanse of the ocean rolled untroubled, dotted here and there with the lights of night fishers, like pinprick stars in a black sky.</p><p>Light ran alongside the shore, first on the grey cement sidewalk, then on a painted and beginning to splinter wooden boardwalk.  Eventually, they both ran out, and she was running on the sand.  With the uneven, yielding footing, it took more effort to keep up her pace, and eventually she came to a halt, panting and pressing a hand to her side.</p><p>On the other side of a cement barrier, a car swooshed past.  Otherwise, there was nobody else out here with her and Odin.  She looked back at town.  At this distance, all the lights blurred together until it was just one big bonfire.  </p><p>The bonfire had thrown out embers, the houses of rich people set into the hills behind town, but her eyes were drawn to one in particular.  Unlike the others, which glittered white or pale yellow, this building was lit in twinkling blue.</p><p>The Shrine of the Pure.  </p><p>The crystallized bodies of those who died from Angels Tears were kept there.  There were four of them in the local Shrine.  The most recent corpse was ten years old, and the oldest was more than a thousand.  You couldn’t tell by looking which was newer - their crystal bodies were untouched by time.  Myth said those who died of Angels Tears didn’t go to the regular afterlife, but stayed instead in some kind of pleasant, eternal dream.</p><p>There were Shrines all over the world, though local customs differed of course.  Here in Bosaid, people prayed to those frozen statues.  They left offerings of flowers, and twice a year, they brought them out, submerged them in carried-in basins of saltwater, wiped them clean, and danced with them.  The people hoped that the gods who had been so ‘kind’ to Witches, who had ‘mercifully’ cleansed their souls, would extend that same kindness to the people who looked after them.  That their own wrongdoings would be forgiven and washed away with the salty water.</p><p>Lightning thought of Serah as one of those shining sculptures.  Her hand dropped to her pocket, pulled out her phone, hit a speed dial number.  She’d ask Yuna what she thought - <em> No. </em>  She shook her head fiercely and hung up without letting the first ring finish.  It had just been a scheme, a bad idea.  Yuna would be tired from her concert, Light wouldn’t bother her with this little spat.  She would talk to Serah in the morning.  After sleeping on it, Serah would realize how monumentally stupid she’d been.  She’d apologize, and Light would forgive her, and they would go back to normal.  Better than normal, because Serah would finally realize what a lowlife Snow was and break things off with him.</p><p>It was a good mental picture.  She could tell Yuna about it once she’d resolved it.  Light nodded to herself, and began to jog back, going more slowly this time.  Odin glided behind her, his black shadow sailing across the sand, his white feathers going alternate silver and gold as he flew through moonlight and streetlights.</p><p>◊</p><p>Serah’s shoes, cream-colored high tops, were set neatly in the entry when Light got home, and her bedroom door was shut.  Lightning left her alone and went to bed herself.  She slept badly during the night, but dropped off for two hours of heavier sleep just as dawn began to seep around the curtains.</p><p>She woke with a headache and her eyes smarting.  Last night’s argument ran through her mind like icy water, and she dressed with a frown.  Serah wasn’t in her room, the living room, or the kitchen.  When she was in school, she’d often cooked breakfast and left before Light woke up, leaving the food boxed on the counter, so that Light could eat at home or on the way to work.  This summer, her last at home before leaving for university, they’d been eating breakfast together most days.</p><p>There wasn’t any food set out today.</p><p>Odin sat on top of the fridge, regarding Light coolly.  She ignored him, instead checking if there was anything quick to eat.  There was the cake.  It wasn’t the healthiest thing to start the day with, but…  She grabbed an enriched energy drink from the fridge door and shut it.  Cakes had been a luxury item growing up, something to share.  Eating it alone didn’t feel right.</p><p>She stuffed a pear into her bag, and headed out the door.  Serah’s shoes were gone. </p><p>Odin refused to sit on her shoulder on the train.  He perched on the empty seat beside her, his feathers irritably fluffed.  Her mood was equally bad, so she didn’t say a word to him.  She replayed last night in her memory, anger churning in her gut all over again.  </p><p>There were messages on her phone, birthday wishes from coworkers, old highschool friends, and Yuna’s family.  Nothing from Yuna.  Not surprising.  She preferred to talk, and she’d already called yesterday.</p><p>Nothing from Serah.  </p><p>She wanted to see her sister, to shake her and make her explain herself.  If they talked it out face to face, Light could…  Well, actually, she sucked at meeting people halfway, at being conciliatory.  That was usually Serah’s role, but when they both felt equally aggrieved, their fights went on a long time.</p><p>Maybe it was good that Serah had left early.  Light, despite her anger, didn’t actually feel like yelling at her.  She wanted to understand why Serah had lied.  She half-hoped Serah would blame Snow, say he’d made her do it, but she knew that wasn’t likely.  Serah was too strong and stubborn to be forced into things, and however much Light disliked him, Snow wasn’t the type to bully people.  Not deliberately, at least.</p><p>She sighed.  No, she was the bully.  She’d been cruel to Serah, no matter that the words came out of her own hurt.  If she’d just calmly sent Snow away and sat down with Serah, talked to her properly, this fight could’ve been avoided.</p><p>“Sorry, Odin,” she murmured.  He turned his head toward her, golden eye gleaming over his shoulder like a drift of crystal ash.  “Last night - I lost my cool.  I’ll talk to her tonight and find out what drove her to tell such a story.”  He turned away from her again.</p><p>Irritation prickled over her like heat rash.  “Oh, don’t tell me you believed them?  Do you know how astronomical the odds of Serah getting Angels Tears are?  Hell, I’m more likely to get it than she is.  Snow clearly came up with it.”</p><p>He still didn’t say anything to her.</p><p>“Be like that, then.  Just be on the ball at work.”</p><p>In contrast to the day before, work was bedlam.  First she had to get a furious mama possum out of somebody’s car, and when she returned, a man had arrived with a dead Breshan bass’s teeth firmly sunk into his thigh.  Since it was dead, there was nothing Light could do with it, but the ridiculousness of the scenario attracted the attention of everyone in the office.  She was called out as they were picking bits of teeth out of him to deal with an escaped mini-malboro that had gotten into a mall’s air vents, forcing an evacuation of the entire building.</p><p>She and Amodar dealt with that together, then Light went back to the office for a long shower to get rid of the bad breath stench.  She had twenty minutes left on shift when a woman ran in, saying she’d hit a dog or something.  Light took a work truck and drove back with her to the accident site.  There was a stained trail leading off the asphalt into the jungle, about thirty meters.  At the end of it was an endangered flan, leaking blue goo from its torn side.  It bellowed weakly at her, gloppy strings dangling from its panting mouth.  </p><p>“Shhh,” she told it.  “You stay put.”  She pulled a small bag from the pouch she wore at her hip and began to walk a large and cautious circle around the flan, trailing salt and flakes of crushed garnet from the bag behind her.  With the circle complete, the flan couldn’t run away from her or cross the border of the circle to attack her.  It was in very bad shape, and she probably didn’t need the precaution, but she’d rather be safe than sorry.</p><p>Odin landed on the other side of the circle from her.  His steady wingbeats kicked up leaves, but the salt didn’t budge, even as he grew another two feet in height and sprouted six more wings.  The humid air, thick with the smell of jungle growth and decay, overlaid by the briny stink of the injured flan, began to smell of roses and ozone.</p><p>Light dug in her hip pouch again and withdrew two thumb-sized pieces of agate, dropping them on the ground to either side of her feet.  Next, a long, waxed cord.  She made a cat’s cradle with it and held it up, looking at the flan through the center gap.  “Okay, Odin.  On three - one, two, <em> three </em>.”  She closed the cat’s cradle and felt it pull tight around the flan.  The agates flared and sparked with pastel blue light, and the flan slumped in the circle.  Light carefully lifted her net, and the flan rose off the ground with the motion.</p><p>Odin returned to his normal raven form and flapped across to pluck the cradle from her fingers, then flew back toward the road.  The flan, floating two feet above the leaf litter, followed, trees apparently bending around it to allow undisturbed passage.  Lightning picked her crystals up and scuffed her feet through the circle in several places, breaking the new-formed ring of rose petals as well as the salt and garnets.</p><p>◊</p><p>She dropped the flan off at the hospital in the rear of their building, left the truck parked out front, and walked to the station in the dark, catching her usual evening train.  She thought about what she would say to Serah, spinning the conversation a hundred ways in her head, and was so distracted she would’ve missed her stop if Odin hadn’t flown toward the door.</p><p>The moon was rising, even huger and yellower than the night before.  It silhouetted a female figure on the platform - bobbed brown hair, a cold-shoulder sweater, a long skirt over boots, and a small, dragonish shape coiled on her shoulder.  Light’s worries seemed to melt away.  She smiled and went to the figure at once.</p><p>Yuna’s arms wrapped around her, her round face pressed against Lightning’s, and for a moment all was calm and warm and still.</p><p>They pulled apart, but their arms stayed around each other.  Valefor, Yuna’s familiar, picked herself free from Yuna’s hair where the hug had shifted her, brunette strands and blue beaded earrings caught in her red feathers.</p><p>“Oh!  Sorry, dear,” Yuna murmured, giving her a helping hand.  She smiled up at Lightning, radiant.  “I am just so happy to see you.”</p><p>“Why are you here?  You didn’t have to come meet me.”</p><p>“Well…”  Yuna twirled away from her, fastening her hands behind her back.  “It was your birthday, and I missed it.  I missed seeing you.”  She looked over her shoulder at Lightning, moonlight catching on an earring as the beads shifted and slid with the motion.  “I didn’t want to wait any longer.”</p><p>The reminder of her birthday brought all of Lightning’s concerns back to her.  She sighed and started walking.  “I’m glad to see you.  How was the concert?”</p><p>“Good.”  Yuna caught the change in her mood and slipped in beside her, taking her right hand gently in her own.  “I missed a call from you last night.  What’s the matter?”</p><p>Light’s mouth tightened.  They walked in silence for a few minutes, Yuna giving her time.  Valefor rode on Yuna’s shoulder while Odin flew above.  Cars passed them, little sealed bubbles, like emissaries from other worlds.  She could distantly hear the waves on the beach, growing fainter as they walked uphill, into the thick trees, replaced by the shrilling of insects and the nasal call of a nighthawk.</p><p>“Serah’s the matter,” she finally said, abrupt.  “She told me a ridiculous lie yesterday, trying to get me to let her get married to Snow.”</p><p>“She did?  That doesn’t sound like her.”  Yuna knew well how out of character it was.  She and Serah had become friends, and went out together sometimes when Light was at work.</p><p>“He put her up to it, I’m sure.  She painted her shoulder with spray glitter and told me she’d come down with Angels Tears.”  Yuna’s hand went stiff in hers; Light held it a little more tightly.  “I said some things I shouldn’t have, and we haven’t talked since.  I think I hurt her badly.”</p><p>“Would… would you let me talk to her?”  Yuna’s voice was hesitant, but Light felt a rush of relief at the suggestion.</p><p>“That would be wonderful.  I’m afraid I’ll end up yelling at her.”</p><p>◊</p><p>Yuna’s hibiscus tea was too hot to drink.  The first sip burned her tongue.  She popped the lid off so it would cool faster, tucking the purple plastic disc into her pocket.  “How’s yours?” she asked.</p><p>“I don’t know yet.”  Serah wrapped her hands around her mug of chai tea, though the morning fog was clearing away, the marine chill leaving the air.  Her fingernails looked bitten.</p><p>Yuna looked away, over the ocean, at the pink sun coming through the clouds.  She felt unsure how to continue.  It wasn’t an easy subject to bring up.  At least Serah had agreed to see her - she hadn’t responded to Yuna’s soft knock at her door last night, nor when Yuna called her.  But she’d returned the call this morning, tentative at first, thinking Lightning would be on the line, then said yes to meeting Yuna at a café near the beach. </p><p>Sleep had been hard for Yuna, and she’d spent the night thinking about what she could say to Serah.  Now that she was here, she still didn’t know what to say.  It was a hard, hard thing.</p><p>“Sorry for not answering yesterday.  I would’ve, only…”  Serah blushed, her fingers tightening further around the mug.  “I had my phone off.  I was at Snow’s.”</p><p>“Oh,” said Yuna, surprised.  “Your shoes were in the entry.  Light and I thought you were just not answering.  That’s alright, by the way.  You can set your own boundaries.”</p><p>“Thanks,” said Serah, but she still looked embarrassed and unhappy.  “It’s…  She’s so <em> judgey </em> , you know?  So I haven’t <em> lied </em> to her since I was about nine or ten, but I’m not… always honest.  She hasn’t liked any of my boyfriends, and I don’t want to get lectured about it, and I don’t think she’d understand that…”  She gave Yuna a miserable look.  “I know you two don’t...  Like, she gave me the talk, but she made her feelings about it clear, and she makes these little comments sometimes that…”  </p><p>Yuna nodded, understanding.  For Light, kissing and cuddling were the limit.  She didn’t hide her distaste for other acts of sexual intimacy, and while Yuna was quite happy with their arrangement, Serah was cut from a different cloth.  Light’s snippy comments had clearly stuck with her, causing her to hide this part of herself for fear of judgement.</p><p>“Anyway, sometimes I let her think I’m home when I’m not.  So then she accused me of lying, and it’s -”  Tears came into her eyes, and Yuna put a hand on her shoulder.  “It’s so ridiculous!  I need her more than ever, and instead I’m avoiding her because I don’t want to admit I’ve had sex, and it’s so stupid, I’m always careful and it’s my decision, it’s <em> my </em> life, and now I don’t have a lot of it left -”  The tears began rolling down her cheeks and she freed one hand to wipe at them.  Yuna’s own eyes smarted in sympathy.</p><p>Serah kept trying to explain.  “She wouldn’t let me talk about it!  She just leapt to a conclusion and she’s - she’s <em> wrong </em> about Snow, but she doesn’t want to hear it, it was her birthday and I felt like maybe I should wait to tell her, but I thought it would be worse if I waited, but then she -  I just want her to help me through this!”  The last words came out as a sob.  Serah bit her lip, penning any further sobs inside, squeezing her eyes shut.</p><p>“Breathe,” Yuna told her, and felt a wave of serenity and calm roll out of Valefor, enforcing the advice.  She needed the calm herself.  Her fingers trembled around her mug, and her chest felt hot and tight.  She rubbed a circle on Serah’s back, soothing.</p><p>“Light…  You know that she’d rather be mad than be hurt.  She’s sad and afraid, so she’s denying it with all her might.  She’s not right to do that!  She hurt you instead.  I’m… I’m not a neutral party in this, but I want you to know that she was wrong to have lashed out at you.”</p><p>“I know.  I know that.”  Serah was mastering herself already, taking deep breaths.  Yuna’s heart went out to her.  Had Serah let herself have a proper cry yet?  Or was she just bottling it all up, trying to ‘be strong’?  She and her sister seemed very different on the surface, but there were so many ways they were alike.</p><p>Yuna took a deep breath of her own.  “When I say I’m not neutral…  I mean it.  Look.”  She set her mug down in the cool sand by her feet, and held her arm out, shaking the sleeve back.  For a moment, her bare skin looked normal, peachy and dotted with a few moles, then her arm stiffened.  The skin of her forearm shrank to a dozen small rounded triangles, islands in a glittering blue sea.  She winced as the pain hit her, like needles of ice stabbing into her joints, and numbness everywhere else.</p><p>Wide-eyed, Serah murmured, “Angels Tears…!”</p><p>“I was diagnosed more than two years ago,” Yuna said.  “It’s all down my right arm and leg.  It’s creeping through my chest and stomach.  I’ve almost lost sight in my right eye.  It’s…  Oh, Serah, I’m sorry it’s happened to you.  I wouldn’t wish it on the worst person in the world.”</p><p>“How…” Serah whispered, “how are you managing it?  I never guessed…”</p><p>Yuna touched her beaded earring.  In the blink of an eye, the pain vanished and her arm returned to its healthy appearance.  “Valefor’s domain is over <em> nothingness </em>.”  Yuna paused, groping for words to explain the unexplainable.  “It’s a state where everything is possible… but nothing is certain.  I’ve… strained the definition to its breaking point, I think, casting this.  But it works.  It hides it, even from me.”</p><p>She took a sip of her tea finally, trying to wash the knot out of her throat and giving her an excuse to look away.  Serah’s eyes, wide and blue and disbelieving, made her uncomfortable.</p><p>“Does Light know?”</p><p>Ah.  There it was.  That was why it was so hard to talk about, why looking at Serah’s distraught face made her writhe internally.</p><p>“No.  I…”</p><p>“You didn’t tell her?!”</p><p>Yuna’s face fell.  She stared at the pale sand under her boots, firm still with the last moisture from high tide.  “It was… too hard to say.  My family knows.  I thought, at first, that Lightning and I weren’t that serious.  So I didn’t bring it up.  And then, it’s… easy, I suppose, to forget my problems, when I’m with her.  My sickness… doesn’t seem to matter.”</p><p>She looked over at Serah, who stared back with thinned lips and set features.  She looked a lot like her sister.</p><p>“I know I’m taking the easy way out,” Yuna murmured.  “And it will… only make things worse later.  I admire your courage, telling her at once.”</p><p>Serah reached over and took her free hand.  It was a kind and tender gesture, even with her anger still written on her face.  “You have to let her know.  She has to know.”</p><p>◊</p><p>Yuna shook her sleeve back into place.  Light stared fixedly at her covered up arm, not saying anything.  Yuna pressed on, “I’m sorry… for not telling you.  I didn’t want…  I didn’t want to hurt you, and then…”</p><p>Across the kitchen table, Serah nodded encouragingly.  Yuna had held back her confession when Light arrived home, to give Serah time to explain herself, and for Light to apologize to Serah.  That had gone… not badly.  Light’s denial had broken under their gentle, combined pressure.</p><p>Now she had to face the music herself.  That was going… less well.</p><p>Lightning was still staring.  Her nostrils were flared and white, and the knuckles and bite scars shone white on her tightly clenched left hand, set on the table.  Odin, perched behind her, stared with the same hawkish intensity.  “Get out,” Light said, furious and frighteningly calm.</p><p>“Light...”  Yuna and Serah spoke at once.</p><p>“No.  I can’t deal with this right now.  One of you is bad enough.  Both…”  She stood.  Her eyes met Yuna’s, icy blue.  “You should go home.”</p><p>Yuna nodded, standing too.  She could taste salt in the back of her mouth, and her hands seemed strangely uncoordinated as she picked up her purse and pushed the kitchen stool back under the table.  She had brought this on herself, she had no right to cry over it, but she could feel her face and throat tightening with the urge.</p><p>She forced her muscles to relax.  To smile, soft and understanding.  She looked at Lightning, at Serah beside her.  She couldn’t regret this revelation, if it helped Light believe Serah, if it meant Light supporting Serah through this, the way Yuna’s family helped her.  It was selfish to regret it.  She repeated that to herself as she went out the door and down the sidewalk under the soapberry trees.</p><p>She was almost to the train station when her facade broke, her distress shattering the spell.  She stepped into an alley, limping because of her stiff leg.  The alley was clean, but still smelled of other people’s garbage, and she heaved small, shallow breaths, trying not to smell it.  Trying to be quiet as she cried.</p><p>Valefor coiled around her neck like a torc of gold and spinel, nuzzling her head under Yuna’s chin.  Silent as always, she said nothing, but Yuna felt peace coming from her.  Courage, and acceptance.</p><p>How things were, was how things were.  If she could not change it, she could determine what action she would take to deal with it.</p><p>Yuna lifted her chin, straightened her back.  She touched her earring, the beads of aquamarine, chalcedony, citrine, and petrified wood that anchored her ‘negation’ spell.  Sight came back to her right eye.  The pain in her right side and abdomen ebbed away like water draining from a tide pool.  </p><p>She would go home and talk to her family about today.  They would chastise her, or get mad on her behalf, or both, most likely.  Tonight, she would sing alone, practicing, and then tomorrow with her band.  Tomorrow was her day to help tend the senior center garden, and afterwards she would take the extra clipped flowers to the hospital when she went for a check-up.  The animal shelter was the next day, and then she had two days on the road for a show, so she’d have to miss her shift at the food pantry, perhaps she could pull a double shift next week to make up for it…?  </p><p>Her life, whatever remained of it, brimmed over with things she loved and things she could do to share that love.  Whether Light forgave her or not…  That was up to Light.  </p><p>◊</p><p>The door clicked shut behind Yuna.  Something inside Light coiled tighter at the sound, like her whole body was a spring tensing.  The muscles in her folded arms jumped.  Her neck felt brittle, too taut to let her look over at Serah, but she felt her sister’s eyes on her.</p><p>What was she supposed to do?  Apologize again for her reaction?  She was in no mood for further groveling.  The remorseful feeling that had built in her over the last two days was gone, burnt to ashes by the flames of betrayal.</p><p>Serah said her name softly, laying it in the air like a feather drifting down.  “Lightning…”</p><p>It didn’t matter what tone it was said in.  <em> Lightning </em> was the name she’d chosen when she left behind dependency and faith in others.  When it had been only her, looking out alone for Serah and herself.  It was not a soft, kind name, because she was not soft or kind herself.</p><p>“Leave me alone,” she said to Serah too.  She didn’t bite the words out.  She didn’t have to be, or want to be, cruel.  But Serah, standing next to her with her wide, open eyes and her bared, glittering shoulder, felt like an open wound.  Light could feel her strength, her control, draining away.  If she allowed herself any weakness right now, even the small grace of crying on her sister’s shoulder, she would break.</p><p>She couldn’t look at her.  She hoped she wasn’t hurting Serah more than she already had, but she probably was.</p><p>“Okay.”  Serah’s reply was small and wavering, but braver and kinder than Light could ever manage.  “Mog and I will go for a walk.”  She went to the entryway, calling her cat.  She put her shoes on and his harness, then looked back into the kitchen at Light.  “Odin?  Look after her, okay?”</p><p>The raven must have nodded, because Serah nodded as well and stepped out.</p><p>Light stood in the kitchen as the day died around her, her arms folded, fingers digging into flesh.  Finally, the dove-gray darkness registered on her.  Consciously, she made the decision to walk to the switch, and instead, auto-pilot directed her to the fridge to get a drink.  Her head felt like a minefield.  A glass of wine was called for.  She could sit with it, and process.</p><p>Her eyes fell on the birthday cake, still in its box.  Uneaten, untouched.  Fear and anger tightened in her chest, and pressure gathered behind her eyes.  She slammed the fridge door, grabbed her keys, and went for a run.</p><p>She went in a different direction this time, away from the coast and the view of the Shrine, along residential streets.  Odin flew behind her, white feathers flashing under street lamps and in the headlights of passing cars.  </p><p>Lightning didn’t often think about the future.  She lived her life in the present, dealing with things as they came.  When she <em> did </em> think about it, Serah and Yuna were always there.  What future existed for her without them?  How could she go on if she lost them?</p><p>Yuna wanted a normal life, so she hadn’t told Lightning.  Serah wanted to face her life head-on, so she had.  Lightning could <em> understand </em> both, but rage and fear still caught in her chest, clouded her mind.  What was she supposed to do?  How could she stay strong through this nightmare?</p><p>A clatter of metal yanked her thoughts out of their downward spiral.  After years of working with animal rescue, she knew the sound of an animal knocking over a trash can.</p><p>Investigating, she stepped down an alley to find a coyote tearing open a bag from a spilled trash can.  It jerked its head up as it heard her footsteps.  Its tawny eyes locked with hers.  One of life’s ultimate survivors, it had adapted to the loss of its wild habitat and adjusted to life in the suburbs.</p><p>As a Witch, she believed in messages and symbolism.  Be like the coyote.  Take what life throws at you and roll with it.  Adapt to your new world and thrive in it.</p><p>She snarled, and the coyote took off, disappearing into the night.</p><p>To hell with that.  Lightning’s world <em> was </em> Yuna and Serah.  If fate or the gods decreed they couldn’t thrive with her, then she was going to change that.</p><p>She looked up at Odin, perched on a street sign.  “Odin.  Let’s get to work.”</p><p>His golden eyes shone.  “It will be difficult.  Maybe impossible.”</p><p>“I know.  I don’t care.”  She was going to fight to the death for them, no matter what price she had to pay.</p><p>◊</p><p>Dried leaves skittered down the street, right into Yuna’s waiting dustpan.  She brushed them in, along with a cigarette butt and a coffee cup, then dumped the lot into the garbage bag Serah held open for her.</p><p>“What did they say?” she asked.</p><p>“The first lady on the phone was nice, but she couldn’t do anything, so she passed me to someone else, and they passed me on, and in the end I spent five hours on the phone and now I don’t know if I’m still enrolled or not.”   Serah shook the bag with vehemence, making sure the litter went down into it.  “And that’s five hours of my life I’m never getting back, so I’m not exactly jumping to try again.”</p><p>“I had something similar,” Yuna said, sweeping up a drift of leaves against a stoop, bright colored candy wrappers shining from the dark orange and brown leaves.  “I was supposed to go on to medical school...  I took supplementary courses so I wouldn’t have to do them in college, and they didn’t want me to drop out partway.  Or at least, they wanted... to get my full tuition out of me, even if I wasn’t going to finish the classes.”</p><p>“What’d you do?”</p><p>Yuna grinned ruefully.  “In the end… I couldn’t do it on my own.  Lulu called, and she got it fixed like that.”  She shifted her broom to the crook of her elbow and snapped her fingers.  “You need a certain kind of personality, I suppose.”</p><p>“Mm.”  Serah nodded.  “Do you think she would help me?  I can’t quite bear the thought of doing it again.”</p><p>“I’m sure she would!”  Yuna’s sister had limited patience for fools, and she liked Serah.  She would help for sure.  “We can ask her after we finish here.”</p><p>Today, she was picking up litter in the little artsy district near her home.  Serah, at loose ends now that she was not headed off to university, had come with her to help.  Despite Yuna’s crowded schedule, the two of them had spent as much time together in the past month as they had during the year and half that Yuna had been dating Light.</p><p>It was good to have someone to talk to, who knew what you were going through.  It almost frightened Yuna, what a relief it was.  Rikku and Paine, her bandmates, were incredibly kind and supportive, and she never would have made it this far without her little found family, but Serah…  Her Angels Tears was far behind Yuna’s, but she <em> understood </em>.</p><p>“That would be good,” Serah murmured, suddenly distant.  “I would’ve asked Light for help, normally, but -”  She broke off, making a face.</p><p>“No change?”  The words were bitter in Yuna’s mouth.  She used to talk to Lightning almost every day, even if only over the phone.  Now she had to rely on Serah’s reports.</p><p>“None.  She’s so -”  She held a hand up, wiggling the fingers.  “It’s like an aura, I guess.  When she’s really focused on something, it’s like the air around her has an electric charge.  Like if you try to touch her, you’ll get shocked.  She’s like that all the time lately.  I -  It’s hard to talk to her, like that.”</p><p>Yuna sighed.  “I know what you mean.”</p><p>They made their way down the block.  The trash was at its worst near the small movie theatre.  Stale, crushed popcorn stuck to the sidewalk, candy boxes, flattened cups and straws, ragged ticket stubs.  Yuna paused as they passed the posters out front and pointed to one.</p><p>It featured a young woman in a white gown, an icy familiar hovering over her shoulder, staring heavenward at a glowing golden city.  <em> ETERNAL EDEN </em> was the title.</p><p>“Lulu worked on this,” she said, pride in her voice.  “That gown’s her design.”  On her shoulder, Valefor puffed her feathers out, proud in her own way of their brilliant sister.</p><p>Serah stepped closer, examining the poster.  “It’s gorgeous.  Is the movie good?”</p><p>Embarrassed, Yuna had to shrug.  “I don’t know.  I can’t watch it.  It’s… about a Witch whose lover dies, and she challenges the gods in Eden to get her back.  It hits... a little close to home for me.”</p><p>“Oh.  Yeah.  Me too.”  </p><p>They were both preoccupied and silent for a few minutes.  Then Serah murmured, “I know it’s pointless to complain about, but it’s not fair.  We worked so hard, but we’ll never get to follow our dreams and succeed the way Lulu has.  I only wanted to be a teacher - that’s a pretty humble dream, right?  But I might be dead in five months.  I can’t do that, and you can’t be a doctor.  It sucks,” she finished.</p><p>“It does suck.”  Saying it aloud, not just thinking it, felt like letting out a long-held breath, like coming back to the surface after a long time underwater.  “It sucks!” she half-yelled, sweeping up a hot dog wrapper.</p><p>“It’s the worst!” Serah said back, her voice rising too.</p><p>“It’s not fair, and I hate it!”</p><p>“We deserve better!”</p><p>“We deserv-”  Yuna choked on something that was half a sob, half a laugh.  She looked over at Serah, who was looking back at her with a comical expression of semi-alarmed surprise.  With one hand, she waved a <em> no, I’m alright </em> signal, while the other one rose to cover her mouth.  But it was too late.  The laughter bubbled out.</p><p>Serah laughed too, a muffled giggle that turned into a hold-your-sides and wipe-your-face open-mouthed laugh.  They must have looked ridiculous.</p><p>None of it was <em> okay </em> , and none of it was <em> right </em>, but it was what it was.  She could laugh or she could cry, and she would rather spend her time laughing.</p><p>She wiped her eyes, still smiling.  “We don’t... have much time.  So we have to make our dreams smaller.  I just want… to make my life worthwhile.  For my existence to… have meaning.”</p><p>“And that’s why all the volunteer work, huh?  What about the singing?  Is that for you?”</p><p>Yuna shook her head.  “Not… exactly.  It’s…  When I’m gone, my songs will stay.  The people I love will have... that record of me.”  She put her hand gently on Serah’s shoulder.  “You too… you should consider what you want to leave behind.”</p><p>◊</p><p>Stacks of books cluttered the floor, arranged in piles of useless, potentially useful, theory, helpful, and critical.  Her largest grimoires weren’t stacked.  As books of magic, they contained magic and were instead set at critical junctures in her mandala.</p><p>It was complicated, the most complicated she’d ever designed.  Multi-leveled, with mandalas inside or overlapping other mandalas.  Some for healing, protection, purifying, curse lifting, restoration.  There were ones for hope, good luck, and fortune.  Others were for breaking free of fate and defying destiny.  </p><p>Incense and herbal candles filled the room with coiling fragrant smoke.  Crystals and spheres of varying colors and meaning were set among the mandalas, some reflecting light from the candles, and others casting their own glow.  Papers with strange drawings and symbols studded the design.  </p><p>Lightning went over her work for what could well be the thousandth time, checking for mistakes, smudges, a line out of place.  She inspected most closely her failsafes and security measures, necessary for such a large spell.  Spark, the knife Serah had gifted her, was stabbed into the middle of one of the drawn symbols.  It was the only symbol drawn in blood.  Her blood.  The mark and the knife served as a false her, to catch any backlash.   </p><p>Odin, no longer in his small, economic form, stood like a grand statue in the middle.  Six eyed and six legged, with his long curved neck like sculpted marble.  A horse like no other.  No Witch in recorded history had ever been successful at curing Angels Tears, but Lightning doubted any of them had had Odin as a familiar - <em> magic </em> itself was among his dominions.</p><p>She nodded to the silver stallion.  “Right, let’s do this.”</p><p>Using a red garnet crystal the size of her fist, Lightning started to channel her energy.  The crystal started to glow, its light caught and reflected in the other crystals, and they took on its bloody color.  The candle flames grew tall, turning blue and crackling with electricity.  The light spilled into the chalked mandalas.  One by one, their curving lines glowed and lifted into the air.  From two-dimensional to three-dimensional, the spell became real.  An active force in the world.</p><p>She could feel the tracking and target spells latch onto Serah.  Healing and protection mandalas flared but there was a resistance.  Something blocking the spell.  Then Odin’s own power rushed in, strengthening the entirety of the spell, like extra hands under a heavy load.</p><p>Almost there.  Lightning grit her teeth, pushing further.  Just a little more.  </p><p>The mandalas for defying fate and destiny shattered.  Hope and fortune dissolved.  The rest faded like smoke.  The crystal in her hands beat like a bomb or dying heart before exploding.  </p><p>The backlash of the spell flooded the room, knocking over candles, tearing pages from books and panels from the wall.  The knife, Spark, glowed brightly, white-hot, and shattered.  A shard of metal shot out from it and struck her above the heart.  She went down, clutching at her chest, barely registering Odin’s warning, “Lightning!”</p><p>A panel torn loose from the wall slammed into her head, and she blacked out.  </p><p>It was the difficulty of breathing that woke her up.  She sat up, coughing.  Her chest felt tight and cold.  She looked about the smoke-hazy room.  It was trashed.  Papers and rose petals everywhere, and plaster ripped from the walls and ceiling was scattered about in flat white chunks.  The crystals and stones were cracked or shattered.  She saw places with black smudges and charred edges where the candles had caught.</p><p>“I put the fires out.” Odin perched on an overturned candlestick.  Back in raven form, his wings drooped bedraggled at his sides.</p><p>“What happened?” she rasped. </p><p>Even while asking, she knew what had happened.  She was looking for an explanation.</p><p>“It failed.”</p><p>“I know that!” she snapped.  “Why did it fail?  Where did the spell go wrong!” </p><p>It had worked for a few seconds, so why had it broken down?  She started to stand, then cried out, gritting her teeth and clutching her chest where the knife shrapnel had hit her.  The skin under her shirt didn’t feel right.  It was hard and cold to the touch.  Feeling anger and dread, she tore the ripped fabric open, exposing where the wound should be.</p><p>Stone.  A circular patch of dull, gray stone, barely the size of her palm, covered the area above her left breast, flush with her skin.  </p><p>Her eyes widened in panic, frantically looking for Spark.  All she found was shattered and twisted metal.  The rebound had been too much, too powerful for her false self to take.</p><p>The type of rebound depended on the spell attempted.  Her fingers traced the painful place where skin met stone.  Instead of curing Serah’s illness, Lightning had given herself a mock version of it.  And likely just as deadly.</p><p>Odin’s voice was like wind in winter branches, rasping and grave.  “There wasn’t any one part that gave way.  It collapsed, all of it, together.”  </p><p>Fuck.  “FUCK!”  She slammed her fist into the ground, ignoring the throbbing pain it caused in her hand, but she only stayed crumpled and defeated for a moment.  It hadn’t worked, but…  She forced herself up and looked around the destroyed room.  </p><p>It would take time to clean, repair, and reorganize, but she could take that time to analyze the casting.  Figure out a different approach.  Going to fetch a trash bag and broom, she caught sight of her reflection in a floor mirror.  Her hair was frizzy, going in every direction, and she was covered in chalk dust, rose petals, and shattered crystal.  Out of context, she almost looked like some comical baking adventure gone wrong, covered in flour and glitter sprinkles.  </p><p>Her eyes…  She turned away from the mirror.  She and Serah had inherited their mother’s blue eyes, but now hers were faintly glowing gold.  Golden eyes and a stone heart.  </p><p>Her hand tightened around the broom handle.  It didn’t matter.  It didn't matter how many tries it took.  Some things in life, you couldn’t give up on.  You just tried, over and over, until it got done.</p><p>A week later, she was hunched over an ancient and crumbling book Odin had obtained from… From somewhere, and maybe it was better if Light didn’t know its exact origin.  The pages were stained, and the faded runes danced in front of her tired eyes.</p><p>She squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose.  Odin hadn’t taught her this alphabet for nothing.  She had to get some use out of this book, or make his efforts vain.</p><p>There was a polite knock at the front door.  She recognized it.</p><p>Startled, she looked across her untidy room at Odin.  “Yuna?”</p><p>He blinked round eyes at her - for a moment, he had six of them.  “Yes,” he said, as the extra four vanished again.  “I sense Valefor.”</p><p>Light’s mouth thinned.  She returned to her book, resolutely determined to ignore the door, but she couldn’t focus on the runes.  It had been almost six weeks since she’d seen Yuna last, and memories of her flooded her mind.  Yuna singing, dancing, radiant on stage.  Yuna laughing in the sunlight, her hand warm in Light’s, as they watched Odin and Valefor chase each other on the beach.  Yuna’s body against hers as they cuddled on the couch, the soft silkiness of her hair as Light kissed the top of her head.</p><p>“You should answer,” said Odin.</p><p>“She lied to me.”</p><p>“She could help with the spell.”</p><p>Her head snapped up.  “How?  If she could cure it herself, wouldn’t she have already done it?”</p><p>“Valefor’s power is not Odin’s power,” he said, somewhat huffy.  “Few Witches and familiars in history have commanded the strength we two share.  Few familiars indeed surpass my dominions in breadth or depth, and Witches of your power are scarce.”</p><p>“Yuna’s as powerful as I am.”  Light felt herself compelled to defend Yuna, even though she was arguing against including her.  </p><p>“But her familiar has only two dominions.  The point is, <em> air </em> is common enough a domain, and Valefor’s dominion of it is weak.  But <em> nothing, emptiness,</em> is rare.  Her strength in it is unparalleled.  It could prove useful.”</p><p>Light looked away, mulling it over.  She intended to save Yuna.  She was no closer still to determining how to make her spell work.  If Valefor was the key to it, then she <em> had </em> to bring her in.</p><p>Some things you just had to do, no matter how you felt.</p><p>◊</p><p>Yuna was not going to give up and go home, but she was regretting not bringing a better jacket.  Her crochet shawl was comfortable, but now that the evening fog was settling in, dewy and chill in the autumn dusk, it wasn’t enough to keep her warm and dry.</p><p>She knocked again.  She’d tried calling Light before resorting to the drastic step of coming over, but there had been no answers.  It had been six weeks now since Lightning’s birthday, and though Serah reported that she no longer seemed angry, she still was of no help to her sister.  Serah was… not floundering, she was too stubborn for that, but definitely hurt.  A little adrift, trying to plan for her curtailed future without Lightning’s input.</p><p>She’d been coming over to Yuna’s house instead, often bringing her giant of a boyfriend with her.  Yuna hadn’t met him before, since Light disliked him so, but she found him charming in the same enthusiastic, bro-ish way as her brothers Wakka and Chappu.  Like Yuna and her family, Snow and his friends were doing their best to act as a support system for Serah, but the longer Light kept to her isolation, the more obviously upset and worn down Serah became.</p><p>She needed her sister.  Yuna was here to make that point, even if she got yelled at for it.</p><p>All the same, she was startled when the door finally opened.  The figure silhouetted in the door…  Was that Lightning?  Lightning, who was always put together, from the hair curled over her shoulder to her perfectly polished boots?</p><p>The Lightning who looked out at her had hair loosely braided out of the way, a wrinkled blouse, and candle wax stains on her jeans.  Her face looked wan and thin, with bags under her eyes.  Most frightening, those eyes were not lovely flower-blue, but gold, cold and glittering as tiger’s eye gemstones.</p><p>“Light…?” Yuna asked, her hand rising with automatic concern.  Her fingers came close enough to Light’s face to feel her warmth, then she realized - they’d broken up, or as good as, even if the words hadn’t been said.  Touching her face was inappropriate, and disrespectful to Light’s feelings.  She yanked her hand back down, feeling a flush of embarrassment burning across her nose and cheeks.</p><p>On her shoulder, Valefor’s feather’s rose like a cat’s fur hackling as she stared at Light.  Distress and… anger? worry? seeped out of her, like oil spilling against Yuna’s mind.  “What’s the matter?” Yuna asked her.  She looked again at Light’s frightening eyes.</p><p>In a clipped voice, Light said, “You’d better come in.”  She led Yuna to her bedroom, which was usually military neat.  Everything in its place.  Not this evening.</p><p>The laundry hamper was overflowing, and crumpled papers littered the desk and the floor around it.  Boxes of herbs, crystals, and candles were stacked along a wall, instead of put away in their cabinet as they usually were, and books were scattered everywhere - on the desk, on the floor, on the bed.  Even the walls were a mess, with patches of fresher, whiter plaster in an untidy spotted pattern over the older creamier paint.</p><p>The air smelled like incense and wax, a sure sign of recent spellcasting.  Odin drooped on his perch, looking as tired as his Witch.  The pieces of evidence assembled themselves for Yuna, and she looked at Light with fear knotting itself in her belly.  “What did you do?”</p><p>“Fucked up a casting,” said Light, raw and honest.  “A rebound.”  She undid a few of the buttons on her blouse, pulled at it to reveal a large gray patch on the left side of her chest, about the size of Yuna’s two hands laid flat.  She tapped a fingernail against it with a faint clinking sound.  “I tried to undo Serah’s illness, and turned myself to stone instead.  It’s spreading, too.  A week ago, this was the size of my fist.”</p><p>Yuna gasped.  “How could you be so foolish…!”</p><p>“At least I’m trying!  Maybe I’m an idiot, but I’m trying.  For your sake, as well as Serah’s.”</p><p>Odin’s deep voice spoke.  “Valefor.  You love Yuna.  Give us your help, and perhaps we can succeed.”</p><p>Valefor turned her head to look at Yuna, then hopped off her shoulder.  Her body grew as she fell, ruby feathers and beating peach and purple wings, stirring up the loose papers on the floor, until she was her full self, one and a half times as tall as Yuna.  Her clawed feet settled on the floor, and the end of her tail twined around Yuna’s ankle.  She drew her wings in.  The links of gold and the bell attached to them on her chest flanges chimed softly with her swaying movement.</p><p>Words formed in Yuna’s mind, and she relayed them aloud.  “She says… no.  She has no dominion over <em>death, </em>or<em> life, </em>or<em> healing.</em>  All she has to offer is… peace.  Acceptance.  She cannot change my fate, or Serah’s.”</p><p>The calm regret in Valefor’s thoughts made her reach out her hand, bury it in the soft feathers on the dragon’s head.  They had this conversation themselves, two years ago when she was diagnosed.</p><p>Light turned away sharply, her back stiff.  “So this was useless!”</p><p>“No,” said Odin.   “Between Valefor’s dominion over <em> nothing </em> and mine over <em> magic </em> and <em> death </em>, we can change what heaven has sent down… if we have enough power available to us, and our Witches are in sync.”</p><p>Yuna looked down, her hand tensing on Valefor.  She and Light were a long way from ‘in sync’.</p><p>Lightning was fixed on the first part, her eyes steady on Odin.  “What do you mean, enough power?”</p><p>“The spell must be cast someplace with more ambient magic.  Bosaid is acceptable for most workings, but for a spell of this magnitude, I can think of only one suitable location on this plane.”  As Odin spoke, images flowed from Valefor into Yuna, supplementing the words.  She gasped as thunderclouds parted in her mind, revealing gleaming golden pinnacles and towers, a city surrounded by walls of storm.  </p><p>“Eden…!”</p><p>She felt stunned.  It was true that familiars came from other planes, while the gods dwelled inside the mortal world.  And it was true that powerful Witches had, historically, gone to Eden and wrested boons from the deities there.  It was even rarer than Angels Tears, but it did happen.  The film poster she’d passed earlier?  The plot had been streamlined, modernized, and embroidered, but the bare bones of it were based on a true story.</p><p>“There is… always a price,” she murmured, wondering.  “Wishes are not… granted without cost.”  Acknowledgement and regret stirred inside Valefor, passing to Yuna.</p><p>Light laughed, fierce and bitter.  “A worse cost than the painful deaths we’re in for now?  We’re already dead women walking.”  She looked at Yuna, and the glint of battle was in her eyes.  The sunlight falling through her window touched her messy hair, illuminating her with aura.  Yuna’s breath caught.  It was as though every time she’d looked at Light before, she’d seen only a part of her, a fleeting reflection or a facet briefly sparkling.  Now she was seeing Light as she was meant to be.  Like a goddess herself.</p><p>“You really want… to fight fate?”</p><p>Light held out a hand.  She didn’t say anything.  Her face was serious and her hand was steady.</p><p>Yuna had spent more than two years accepting her lot in life.  To change her viewpoint so suddenly… it should be difficult.  But it wasn’t.  If she and Lightning could lift the disease from Serah and herself, maybe they could lift it from others, too.  Maybe no one would ever have to suffer it again.  If there was even the slightest chance…</p><p>She looked at Lightning.  “I’ll go with you.  But I’m not… expecting forgiveness.  You can be as mad… as you like, at me.”</p><p>She took Light’s hand.  It tightened, then Light pulled her in close.  Yuna gasped as Light’s arms went around her.  “I’m still mad,” Light whispered.  “But I love you anyway, so I guess I forgive you.”</p><p>Her clothes smelled like incense, smoke, and roses.  Yuna leaned against her, and though she could feel the stony patch on Light’s chest, cold and hard, she didn’t care.  She heard Odin chuckle, and felt Valefor’s happiness.  “Thank you,” she murmured back.  “I love you.”</p><p>
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